Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NEVER RETURN!, by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

NEVER RETURN!, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: It was a meeting, such as on this earth
Last Line: Call on the fire-flies dancing through the vines.
Alternate Author Name(s): Houghton, 1st Baron; Houghton, Lord
Subject(s): Future; Past; Reunions


IT was a meeting, such as on this earth
The bonds of time and circumstances permit
Rarely to those who feel and think as one:
A small but "sacred band" wholly made up
Of lovers -- of old friends who had not met
For many weary years -- of some whose names
Had to each other been familiar sounds,
And who now felt their spirits meet and join
At once, like waters -- and of four who formed
Two complete beings, man and woman blent,
Ensamples of connubial unity.
This wondrous concert of internal life
Went on beneath the open infinite
Of an Italian sky, that varied not
More than the peace that dwelt within their souls;
So that when, all at once, before their eyes
The lake grew less transparent, and the leaves
Of the pale olive less distinguishable,
And the hills glow'd like metal, while the snow
First turn'd to gold, then red, then deadly white,
They were astonished at the flight of time
That had not struck one hour within their hearts;
And amid all the riches of that South
They grudged the North its solitary charm
Of long, long twilight, mourning bitterly
That here the day was ravished from their eyes
And bore a world of bliss along with it.
At last one rose, one younger than the rest,
One before whom life lay a glorious stream
Flowing, by right divine, through pleasant lands,
Unconscious of the fatal final sea.
He stood irradiate with that rosy light,
The funeral banner of the fallen sun,
Most like an image of incarnate Hope,
From whom no night can hide the coming morn.
Raising one arm in ecstacy, he cried, --
"Before we leave this consecrated spot,
Before this Day of Days is wholly dead,
Before the dew obliterates all our steps
From this light earth, let us record a vow!
Let us, in presence of these lasting hills,
In presence of this day's delicious thoughts,
That yet are hardly memory, -- let us pledge
Our hearts together, that on this same day
Each rolling year shall see us meet again
In this same place, as far as Fate allows.
Some may be held away by cruel chance,
Some by the great divorcer, none by choice;
And thus, at least for a large lapse of time,
One Day shall stand apart from other days,
Birth-day of inward Life -- Love's Holyday --
The Wedding-day, not of one single pair,
But of a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, --
The Saint's-day, in whose fair recurrent round
Each year will circle all its blessedness."
With more than ready welcome, with loud glee,
Was hailed this happy fancy; each was prompt
To press the other's hand, and, joining round
The founder of this mighty festival,
To seal the sudden contract -- all save One.
This one had gazed on the impassioned youth
With tender looks, that to the rest had seemed
Fond sympathy, -- but had far other sense.
And now he spoke, at first with trem'lous voice,
Softened, as if it passed through inner tears.
"O Friends! dear Friends! do anything but this:
This is a deed to wake the jealous gods
Into a cruel vengeance. We are Men:
We live from hour to hour, and have no right,
Holding no power, to fetter future years.
We may, if Heaven so please, preserve our loves,
We may enjoy our interchange of souls
Long, and in many shapes of time and fate;
But to this spot, the scene of this To-day,
Let us, whate'er befall, never return!
"Never return! If hitherward your path
Should chance to lie, when seeking other lands,
Spare not the time it takes to circuit round
This scene, and gaze upon its face no more.
Say, if you will, 'It lies amid the gold
The sunset spreads beyond that purple ridge;'
Say, if you will, 'The atoms of this stream
Flow through the place I value most on earth,
And bear my yearning heart along with them;'
Say, if you will, 'There rests my Paradise;'
But there, whate'er befall, never return!
"Never return! Should we come back, dear Friend!
As you implore us, we should not return:
Came we all back, as Heaven would hardly grant,
There must be faded cheeks and sunken eyes,
And minds enfeebled with the rack of time,
And hearts grown colder, and, it may be, cold.
The sun might shine as gorgeous as this noon,
And yet find clouds between it and our souls;
The lake might rest like light upon the earth,
And but reflect to us sweet faces gone
And pictures mournful as the dead below;
The very flowers might breathe a poisonous breath
Should we, led by false hope, ever return!
"Trust not the dear palladium of the Past
Upon the Future's breast. The Past is ours,
And we can build a temple of rare thoughts,
Adorned with all affection's tracery,
In which to keep from contact vile and rude
The grace of this incomparable Day.
We may, by heart, go through it all again;
We may, with it, give colour, warmth, and form
To the black, shapeless mountains far away --
Calm down the seething, hyperborean, waves
To the pure sapphire of this lake, and spread
Rose-trellises across the gloomy front
Of blank old dwellings in the distant town;
But we must keep the vision fresh as morn, --
We must not risk that it should ever lose
One of its features of staid loveliness,
One of its sweet associated thoughts. --
Therefore, whate'er befall, never return!
"Never return! Time writes these little words
On palace and on hamlet; strife is vain;
First-love returns not, -- friendship comes not back, --
Glory revives not. Things are given us once,
And only once; yet we may keep them ours,
If, like this day, we take them out of time,
And make them portions of the constant peace
Which is the shadow of eternity!"
So ended the serene Philosopher;
And to all minds the sad persuasive truth
Found an immediate access: the poor youth
Whose spirit was but now a-fire with hope,
Cast down his quenched enthusiastic eyes.
"Never return!" in many various tones,
All grave, yet none wholly disconsolate,
Was echoed, amid parting signs of love,
As they went on their common homeward way.
Silent above, the multitudinous stars
Said, "We are steadfast, -- we are not as Ye."
Silent the fields, up to the phantom hills,
Said, "We are dreaming of the vanished days
Which we shall see again, but Ye no more."
So heavy pressed the meditative calm
On those full hearts, that all rejoiced to hear
The shrill cicala, clittering from below,
Call on the fire-flies dancing through the vines.





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